Hormonal HalfWits
by Pyro Symptoms Unleashed
Summary: Ginny's POV. What happens when the entire male Order starts acting strange around Ginny? That's what she keeps asking her diary...what exactly is Moody staring at?
1. The Diary

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Fear not, dear friends and faithful readers...whatever...I am not straying from Dancing Life completely, nor am I departing from my other stories I am currently writing. Understand, I beg of you, that I just needed to do some writing for fun, something not threatened on me (yeah, you Protector of Meladon). So this is it. I will return to my other stories (and the additional fourth one I'm working on) after I'm finished with this, which is almost entirely written and rather short.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it is, like the plot...

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**SECOND AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This is a diary, written from Ginny's POV. 'Me' and 'I' are in reference to herself and 'you' is talking to the diary. Yeah.**  
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**Hormonal Half-Wits  
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**Chapter 1: The Diary

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Right…so, what are you going to do? It's not like I can just ignore you and pretend you don't exist…Fred and George aren't the subtle type and I highly doubted their taste in presents would be anything less…but honestly…bright gold and scarlet, I ask you…

So, you're new…here's the rules:

Rule One: I write in you.

Rule Two: _You don't write back._

Painfully simple. I expect you to be a good little inanimate object and stay _objective_. None of this…writing back nonsense I had from my last diary.

So…erm…today's Boxing Day. Being the misunderstood and underappreciated genius I am, I've skived off after-Christmas cleaning…and decided I needed to release some of these annoying little emotions (blasted buggers) cooped up in me, before I become a misunderstood, underappreciated, genius, crackpot. Not that there's anything wrong with that…Ron's proven that point rather efficiently…

…

Fred and George are brilliant. In the fifteen minutes I've been up here they've not only managed to bewitch _every single_ Christmas ornament into coming alive _and_ attack Ron, but they've managed to get each other turned a nice, putrid green colour.

I love my brothers.

…


	2. Remus

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This is pretty much how they go; very very very short. It doesn't make much sense now, but will later.

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it is, what's not mine is J. K. Rowlings. What's mine is shite.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 2: Remus

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I hate my brothers.

So, mum decided that since Ron is still digging dancing penguins from his arse and Fred and George are beginning to resemble broccoli (or what it looks like when _I_ try to cook…), that I should come down from my nice, cozy, comfy room and start 'helping out around here'.

Oooh…

So I shoved you into my pocket for safekeeping and I've helped out some…not that mum will find the little doxy eggs I nestled in with the wreaths and ornaments exactly helpful come next year, but…

Funny thing was, I was technically 'caught' in the act…and yet still managed not to get in trouble. Yes, I am a child prodigy. I don't think Fred and George were ever this ingenious in their schemes…yeah they were great, but they almost always got caught.

Sometimes an innocent face and wide eyes are incredibly useful…

I guess I'm just lucky that it was Remus who 'caught' me. He came in the room just as I started stuffing the eggs up Santa's nose. Seemed to find it highly amusing, actually. He even stayed and watched…I think he wanted to help…

After I had finished, he stayed and talked to me for a while. He talked about the things he did at Hogwarts to make Christmas absolute hell for the Slytherins…didn't seem _too _overly proud of it... Quite the devil in his own days. And I was shocked to find out how much younger he is than dad…I don't know why, but I always figured everyone from Hogwarts had been in the same year…Sirius, Remus, Harry's dad, that bloody wanker Wormtail, Snape, Malfoy Sr., the bastard, mum and dad…Remus told me he wasn't ever at Hogwarts with either of my parents, which is quite shocking…

I don't really know why, but it is.

Let's see…that would make him…in his early 40's, then…wow. He looks like shit for his age. Poor man…it's because he's so tired and worn-looking all the time…and the werewolf thing's been weighing heavier than ever on him. Poor man. Even dad looks younger…

We were talking about Quidditch and brooms when Ron came hobbling bandy-legged into the room. Gave me quite a start when I saw how close Remus was…I hadn't even noticed him moving…Ron gave us this weird look.

However, I don't have time to figure out Ron's own unique language of stupidity and idiocy…I have more chores to do. Seems Snape, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, Emmeline, Zabini, and Malfoy arrived looking for a warm after-Christmas meal, in addition to me, the family, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Remus, and Dumbledore.

Poor mum needs help in the kitchen now, and I think she had a hard time of deciding out of me and Tonks who would be the most destructive in the kitchen. Damn Tonks and her clumsiness…so now I'm off to the kitchens to help wreak havoc. Still, poor mum has to put up with the heated mixture of Gryffindors and Slytherins…almost makes me feel bad about those doxy eggs…


	3. Snape

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **These chapters are short and go by quickly. Each one is devoted to one of the Order members (non-WEasley men) and how they act around Ginny. Each chapter is like an entry...therefore time has usually passed in between chapters of 'entries'. (Keep eye out later on for plot twist of extravagence).

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 3: Snape

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I hate Dumbledore.

Whatever makes him think those rotten Slytherins are any good…although Snape was astoundingly…well, not nice…he _is_ Snape after all…but he was decidedly less heinous than normal. At least he didn't say anything to me…anything mean that is…we actually had a decent conversation on this new potion invented that supposedly can cure vampirism…I didn't really mind him that much…Harry looked on the verge of exploding…

And Ron kept giving me this weird look again…

I should really get an Idiot-to-English dictionary…I never know what Ron's going on about. Dinner was nothing less than a flaming disaster. Literally. Tonks managed to elbow a candle over and burned Snape's robes.

His whole arm caught on fire, and I had the distinct feeling half of the room was actively trying to prevent mum from dousing the flames. At least, I highly doubt Fred and George could both accidentally and simultaneously 'fall' into mum and knock the water from her hands.

Three times.

And guess who got the delicious pleasure of escorting an enraged slimy Potions master upstairs to make a healing potion for the burn he sustained?

Well, it certainly wasn't Fred or George…

The thing was, he was rather…urggghhhhh! There is no word to describe it. I want to say nice, but to even suggest Snape could be nice…I would have to hex my own tongue off. Still, he was strangely…subdued. He didn't say anything spiteful and when I concocted the perfect Draft for his wound, I swore he was on the verge of complimenting me…

But of course Ron stumbled into the room at that exact moment, with that weird look in his eyes. Must…translate…Idiot…language… After living with Ron for twenty-three years, you'd think I'd be fluent…

…

Tonks broke five plates while I was upstairs with Snape, and when I got back down, mum foisted dishwashing duties on me as well. Well, not just on me…Zabini got them as well…haha, smarmy git has to get his hands dirty…

Still…Snape is now avoiding me like the plague, though I have no idea why and Ron's talking to Harry in whispers and looking up at me pointedly every five seconds and Hermione and Luna keep whispering, looking up at me, and grinning slyly. I have no idea what's going on, but I have to get back to washing…Zabini's whining again…

…


	4. Zabini

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So horribly short, I know, but believe me, it's just how it flows. There are some entries pages long. So, in case you hadn't noticed, there seems to be a congregation of men swarming separately around our lovely Ginny. Here's my logic: all these fanfiction writers come up with scenarios or reasons...stories behind their stories...that allow their characters to fall for each other. Like Malfoy wouldn't probably fall for Ginny in J.K.'s world. NOW...this story...it's the same logic...but altogether...every Order member happens to discover Ginny on the same day, which makes the story. The story is Ginny and how unimaginably terrified at the strange displays from the men she is. Oh yeah.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 4: Zabini

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Right, so I've changed my mind.

I hate Zabini.

Stupid little prick…there's only one sink and we both had to use it at the same time (he kept insisting we both washed at the same time to equally share the burden…we couldn't have just chosen a washer and a drier, no…) and he kept intentionally reaching across me to get soap…even though he was already up to his armpits in suds.

Stupid smarmy…well, anyway, the result was him getting soap bubbles all over my shirt front. I knew I shouldn't have worn a cloth sports bra today…comfy, but not exactly…substantial…

Especially when idiotic little Slytherin bastards are getting it all wet with their stupidity…

I left him to do the dishes so I could go up to the bathroom and dry off, but took a slight detour to dry my hands and do a spot of writing just to spite him. Not like I'm in any hurry to get back to helping him, the barmy git.

…


	5. Malfoy

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Next in the installments...just to keep your minds off other things...hehe.

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 5: Malfoy

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I hate Slytherins in general.

This day cannot wait to improve the spiralling trail of chaos and disorder it's spinning and I swear fate is laughing at me, chucking little pieces of discord at me from a cushy sofa in hell.

One of these little pieces was waiting for me in the bathroom…little did I know. The door was unlocked so I went on in, apparently forgetting to lock it behind me. I already had my shirt half off, over my head when I heard the toilet flush.

I swear I nearly coughed up my heart…it's still lodged in my throat. I, being my dreadfully calm and composed self, did the most reasonable thing and flailingly panicked. Started wrenching around trying to decided whether to pull my shirt all the way off and hold it over me, or figure out how to put it back on.

I ended up colliding with someone…a very hard-chested someone…who held me up and pulled the shirt off my head. Standing there in bra and patched jeans from Tonks, shivering and still damp, I stared up into the cold eyes of (who else?) Malfoy. Draco.

Bloody git!

And yet…it was very strange…what Hermione calls 'Twilight-Zone-ish'…he didn't sneer, or smirk, or do his little 'I'm-better-than-thou' eyebrow twitch. He just…stared...

Mostly at my chest, which I am horrified to say, was reacting…definitely to the cold and to the cold only…he kept glancing up and down my body and then coming back up to my eyes…for a moment I was worried he didn't recognize me…

My shirt had been dripping slippery suds onto the floor and I tried backing up, only to slip most unceremoniously.

I'm fairly certain I would have cracked my head open on the sink had Malfoy not reached forward and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me up. I nearly slipped again and the door to the bathroom opened.

Why the bloody buggering hell Ron wasn't downstairs enjoying desert, I have no clue. But this time, I think I understand the look he was giving me. It was utter horror. And can I blame him…I was shirtless, wet, and shivering in the arms of the handsome enemy…

Who am I kidding, of course I can blame him! What the hell was he doing up there! Malfoy let me go, but not as quickly as I think Ron would have liked. I'm not stupid…Malfoy just didn't want me to slip and split my ruddy head open…which come to think of it, is awfully caring for the Slytherin git he is.

Guess having your father torture your mum to death in front of you will change people. Must inform dad I will have to torture him with the help of Fred and George and kill him slowly and efficiently if he ever tries any such thing…

…


	6. Neville

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Sorry this is so short, but I'm updating approximately five at a time and I'm on my last chapter.

QUESTIONS: 

**The Lady Luthien: **I know it's confusing, but...the point of this fic is that no one has ever really looked at Ginny as more than a little school girl before, even though she's twenty-three and decent-looking. No, the real point is that on this one day, things happen so randomly and seemingly purposefully, so that more than just one man falls for Ginny. They all fall for her in different ways...some harder than others. And both Malfoy and Zabini are a part of the Order, or els they wouldn't be allowed to stay at 12 Grimauld Place.

**Embellished:** Wow, you've got such great ideas I wish I'd thought of them. It doesn't ruin the plot, so I guess I an tell you that it's not the diary...or Fred and George. It's something even scarier and more disturbing...and I'm not going to tell you. Is it love? Is it hate? Is it a mad yellow bunny spouting Shakespeare lines and singing in the rain? Who knows...

**Amethyst-rose:** Yeah, this is after Hogwarts; Ginny's twenty-three and a manture young woman.

**IssaLee:** Ginny's alright with attention...she's had a bit of it before...but not from people she's known almost all her life and who have never shown any interest in her before...neither is it easy to deal with all twenty-bajillion of them at the same time.

**Faerex:** Possibly the most important question asked. You're probably wondering where I'm going with this, since Ginny's got so many people to choose from. So am I. So here's a message for everyone...look for an explanation in the author's note around Chapter 16 or so...and don't be surprised if it doesn't end with one ending...

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 6: Neville

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People are so bloody weird.

Ron practically dragged me downstairs, and it wasn't until Moody called from downstairs (damn that magical eye!) that I could do with a shirt on, that Ron realized I was still half-naked and allowed me to go back upstairs to grab my shirt. How kind of him…

The bathroom door was closed and I could hear Malfoy still inside moving around and half-talking, half-grunting to himself, so I decided not to chance another strange encounter. I stole up to my room to grab an extra shirt and most literally, ran into Neville.

Poor, poor boy. He looked so absolutely frightened and unsure to see a half-nude girl practically in his arms. He's so terribly sweet. I apologized most heartily, telling him he really didn't want to know in response to his questioning, terrified look.

I resolved then and there that I would kill Ron, married to Hermione or not…

Spiriting around Neville, I dashed all the way up to my room. I heard Neville scampering downstairs and saying something in a high voice to which many booming laughs followed. I am not at all amused.

I really should get a shirt now, but I have a feeling…this strange feeling…that I should record everything of significance down in this book…I've never written in a diary since You-Know-Who's, and yet it seems this timely gift is just perfect…like I was meant to get a diary just so I could write down what happens today.

It's already been such a strange day and I have the feeling it's only going to get worse…


	7. Harry

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hi, I'm back. So, here's Chapter 7...this one's of Harry...hehehe...if Harry seems a bit of a bastard, it's partly because of Ron's protectiveness and influence. So, read and enjoy...oh yeah...and I've finished Dancing Life. No biggie. See you in a twilight!

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 7: Harry

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I was right.

Revision of previous statements; I HATE MEN!

Such unnecessarily complicated creatures…so I was sitting in my room contemplating how very strange this day has been so far when fate decided to throw me a…oh what does Hermione call them…curbed ball? Something along those lines.

Who should decide knocking is out-of-fashion and decide to Apparate into my room while I was still half-starkers? Harry Effing Potter, the rotten blighter…

I swear I sat there for a full minute really trying to comprehend the magnitude of the incomprehensibility of it (hadn't yet realized the impossibility of it) before realizing (yet again) that I was half-dressed.

And still wet.

I grabbed the nearest shirt sitting on my bed and hauled it over my head. Somewhere in the three seconds it took me to do so, Harry had made his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge…uncomfortably close.

I eyed him warily. He eyed me curiously. The bed creaked ominously, and I am certain, totally on purpose and entirely out of spite. Harry was the first to break the silence with something characteristically fumbling like 'There something you want to talk to me about?' Which I found odd enough, seeing as Harry usually avoided talking to girls after that Cho fiasco years ago…plus Harry never sought out conversation with me.

I simply arched an eyebrow (spending far too much time around Malfoy…mannerisms are starting to rub off…) and cocked my head inquisitively. Harry rushed on with what sounded like a hastily-prepared, pre-planned little speech saying how I was acting strange and how Ron and he had noticed (hippogriff's balls, it was Ron all the way…) that I wasn't entirely myself. I asked him if he was talking about.

He said I was behaving unnaturally around the men in the Order today and whether I wanted a boyfriend or something.

I asked him if he was feeling alright and whether or not he'd taken anything from the twins. He merely shook his head, almost incredulously. And then he was kissing me. I think one of us has gone insane, and I think it was him…although it could have been me if he'd continued to kiss me…it wasn't at all the pleasant experience I had anticipated in my younger years…

It felt like there was a fish in my mouth. A slimy, warm, wet fish. Alive. Wriggling. The thought nearly made me lose my lunch and I pulled away hastily. I have to say, Harry looked rather stupid with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and with the strangest expression on his face.

I ran all the way downstairs and then back upstairs when everyone greeted me with questions of whether Harry had talked to me and if I'd had my shirt on. I noticed several people (Ron oddly not included) looking slightly not happy.

I ran all the way up to Sirius's old study, which was now basically empty. Buckbeak was pacing in one corner, blood-caked bones spattered around him. I tossed him a couple of ferrets from a bucket and listened to him crunching away on the bones with an odd, grotesque satisfaction as I imagined Harry and Ron in place of the ferrets. Malfoy may have found his way in there as well. And Zabini.

So, here I am, sitting next to a delightfully macabre creature content in listening to it savagely rip apart cute, fluffy rodents. Perhaps I let Harry kiss me too long…

…


	8. Snape: Round Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Just so you know, the order of people changes with every round. So here's Snape again. Oh, and by the way, Ginny made a discovery in the previous chapter hat kissing Harry for too long is bad for one's mental health...thus when she speaks of anyone kissing Harry, or even brings it up, she's usually talking about someone acting insane or is just commenting on insanity. Have fun.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 8: Snape, Round 2

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I'm really getting tired of this day.

Not in here ten minutes when who should come wandering up but Snape? I cursed myself several times and then everyone in the house many times in succession. It made me feel slightly better and rather brutal.

He came in and to my intense shock, sat down next to me.

On the floor.

With the remnants of long-deceased cute, fluffy rodents.

I really hoped he hadn't been kissing Harry.

Strange how that idea was more revolting than the ferret skull I'd just absent-mindedly crushed under my fingers. I hastily shoved you under my arse and looked up at him curiously. You must admit (thought you had better not voice an opinion) that this behaviour was rather uncharacteristic. And Harry said _I_ was acting strange.

We sat for a while in what one might call companionable silence. Rather, neither of us talked and I, for one, didn't feel at all perturbed. Can't speak for Snape though. He looked rather pale and pasty.

Good, all things normal, then. Except he looked more pale and pasty than normal. I arched an eyebrow at him in perfect imitation of Malfoy. I felt quite proud. He stuttered. It's something that is certainly going down in the record books…Snape stuttered.

For a moment I thought he was, y'know, having a fit or something…then I noticed he was trying to speak…as in formulate speech…it was more than a little disconcerting.

Honestly, I was just trying to help him…I wasn't sure if perhaps the twins had been experimenting again. I put my hand over his and patted it, asking the usual 'you alright?' routine questions. The man stared at me like I was a ruddy basilisk before rushing from the room, actually stumbling on the impressive, sweeping robes he's always flaunting.

I conclude that all the men in this place have been subjected to something of Fred and George's for too long…or perhaps just Fred and George themselves…hmmm. Anyway, just me and Buckbeak now…if he starts acting weird, I'm leaving…


	9. Kingsley

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Here's the next installment...surprise...it's someone new...but does it spell love or hate?

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it is.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 9: Kingsley

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That's it. The Order has gone insane. I told mum it was a bad idea for me to cook lunch Christmas day…she didn't believe me. And now look…they've all caught some strange disease that addles the brain and confounds the mind.

So I was/am still with Buckbeak (the only normal-acting one here) just nodding off and humming 'Weasley is our King' to myself when someone bolts through the door. Ha ha. Bolts. Shacklebolt. Kingsley was panting as he locked the door behind him and performed a locking charm on the door. I don't think he noticed I was there.

I made a distinct noise to let him know there was someone else in the room. He turned slowly, as he does almost everything, to face me. He was playing it cool, but I could see he was relieved that it was only me.

Only me.

He sunk down into the uncomfortable chair in the corner, twiddling his thumbs. I was rather curious as to why he was running all over the place. He told me to mind my own business. I told him to go screw Buckbeak. I think the hippogriff was more insulted.

He gave me this funny look and said I was too young to be using such language, that such 'crudity' wasn't fit for a school girl. I told him to go fuck himself. _And_ that I was twenty-three and well over the crudity line. He gave me this weird look and I was suddenly very aware that the door was locked.

He stood up and I swear, he prowled over to me. More like a cat than anything. He stopped just short of my nose, peering at me. I glared at him. That carried on for a moment before he gave a little half-nod and said something like yes I was.

I poked my wand at his nose.

He left promptly and I'm now wondering if running away from everyone is doing me any good…oh, mum's calling…something about getting downstairs and stop sulking. As if I would sulk…

I hate my life.

…


	10. Moody and Neville: Round Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Sorry it's so short and out of form...but I couldn't decide whose chapter this was...oh well...next chapter on its way...chachacha.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 10: Moody and Neville

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So, I'm camping out with Tonks in the attic.

Apparently, we're both having men troubles, though she's only having problems with two men; I'm having trouble with eight…not including my brothers and dad. Once downstairs, it seemed tensions were running rampant. The only amusing part for me was watching Fred and George fight over Tonks. Apparently that was what Kingsley was running from; the twins got the notion that he was interested in Tonks and didn't like that at all. Tonks was going rather red and kept trying to flee the room.

Mum made me sit down and have some tea and talk to someone. I picked Moody, since he's been the least odd. Big mistake. I swear, I really wonder about that magical eye sometimes…like, it can see through anything, right?

What about clothes?

I know I'm probably perverse for even thinking it, but on several occasions while we were talking about Dark Magic, his magic eye kept swivelling down to my chest area. And there was this one time he did it and just trailed off what he was saying, completely losing his train of thought.

Thoroughly disturbed and more than a little paranoid, I ran away to go talk to Neville. Poor dear. I think mum convinced him he'd had enough tea when he'd broken his third cup. He kept stuttering and his eyes were flicking all over the place. He kept trying to stare at me surreptitiously but it didn't work…because he's got the subtlety of a stampeding horde of hippogriffs…or a rampaging Horntail…or Ron.

How very strange. When he finally went silent and started twiddling his thumbs, I made an excuse and made my escape. Surely Remus would provide me some help…


	11. Remus and Malfoy: Round Two

**AUTHOR' S NOTE:** Wow. I'd like to give a big hand to my reviewers...I'm flattered, really, and that's not something that happens often. Yes, I know it's quite confusing, and believe me, it only gets worse...I had such a hard time writing these, especially since I haven't made up my mind who GInny will end with...if anyone at all...dun dun dun...twiddles.

**Redenvy: **on the nose, that. Yes, it is really just every Ginny-scenario rolled into one. Poor thing.

**IssaLee:** Erm...see, the problem I've encountered is...I've created so many options for Ginny I'm not quite sure which one she'll choose. I could just stick with my classic Draco-Ginny or I could...no, who am I kidding, I could never do Harry-Ginny...wait...anyways...look out for major plot twist ahead. hehe

**The Lady Luthien: **aha...so twisted minds think alike...or was it great...? Hmm...well, I have a twisted mind...so maybe great minds and twisted minds think alike...that would make sense. Believe it or not, I honestly considered making Ginny fall for Tonks by the end of the fic, but this stupid plot won't allow it and I like it too much, so that won't be happening...I think. Excellent call, though.

**Blood Everlasting: **(grins) I like Bertie Botts. Thanks.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 11: Malfoy, Round 2 **

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Sorry. Fred and George just came up and carted Tonks off. 

Poor thing. I don't envy her position. But anyways…after fleeing the drooling Neville, I sought some normalcy with Remus, one of the sanest men I've ever met. It was great…we were talking and joking and Remus is just so incredible…he's got this dry sense of humour that's not entirely perverted. And for a male under ninety, that's saying something.

Then the topic got onto relationships and he asked quite randomly, whether I was seeing Harry or not. I said no and told him about the whole Harry-fish-tongue thing. He found it more amusing than I did. And then (we were in the kitchen…alone) he steps closer to me and asks if I'm seeing anyone.

And then it dawned on me, like a bolt of lightning from above…

HE WAS HITTING ON ME!

How very, very strange. I suddenly comprehend the look Ron was giving me, and I don't even speak Idiot! Ron thinks I'm a scarlet woman…oh gods…first Remus, then Snape, then Zabini, Malfoy, Neville, Harry. My gods, I think I'm going to have a cardiac arrest…

What the bloody hell is wrong with these people? I haven't gone through any drastic change recently! It's just me! What, have they suddenly noticed I'm no longer ten? Brilliant observation, Sherlock. (I don't know what that means, but Hermione says it and rolls her eyes, so…)

Anyways, I had no idea what to say to that, especially with Remus gently running one tender finger up my side…

I was saved…or perhaps thrown farther into the hellfires of damnation…by that arrogant, cool voice I loathe so much. Yeah, Malfoy. Standing there in the doorway, watching the whole thing…sick, twisted bastard. Said something about Remus being a bit too old, to which Remus went a little red (he actually looked practically adorable when he did that) and backing out of the kitchen.

I think Buckbeak gained a companion.

So then the holy bouncing ferret stalks up to me, grinning like the ginger cat that just caught the annoying flying mouse named Pig. He gets up even closer than Remus had, backing me up against the wall.

He trapped me between his arms, and I swear he was smirking at me. He put on that 'sexy', masculine, mysterious voice and leans in, practically licking my ear (ick) and says I should play with people my own age. I asked him what he was on about and he said if I wanted any company…like in bed…he'd be more than willing to help.

I told him I'm sure he was because his hand had to be getting rather tiresome and he just laughed. Little randy bastard tried to lick my neck…what the bloody hell am I? A sugar quill?

I kneed him in the bullocks.

I don't think he liked that too much. Actually, I'm very sure he didn't like that…he screamed like a nancy boy and fell over, clutching the family jewels. I laughed, and didn't try to lick his neck. Though I did kick it.


	12. Zabini: Round Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Oh oh oh oh oh oh. I am a genius I am a genius I am a genius...I've figured out what I'm going to do with the ending! Hoohah! Okay...yeah I'm not going to tell you 'til later. Hehe. Bye Bye.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 12: Zabini, Round 2

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Have been relocated. Harry came snooping up here. I had to perform a Disillusionment Charm on me…thank the gods he wasn't looking too closely…

Decided attic was unsafe, as I'm sure Moody is looking for me…or at least the girls…and decided to go outside. I'm in the square now; they've added these new park-bench-type seats…just perfect for sitting and writing, which is what I'm doing now.

So, back to my tale of horror…

After emasculating Malfoy, I went back out to the congregated loonies. Zabini cornered me before I could find Hermione (sanity!) and started talking to me. Honestly…if ever was someone to contend with Malfoy's arrogance, it's Zabini. Kept going on and on about his broomstick…a LightningBolt…and how he played on it all the time and how all the girls he'd ever let ride it always said it was really comfortable and a good ride…which now that I think of it, was almost blatant sexual innuendo…am glad I didn't take Zabini up on his offer to let me ride it sometime…

He kept me talking for a while and it was incredibly odd how warm the room suddenly got…I mean…a while ago I was shivering my arse off and the Place is still quite cold, it is winter after all…but the more we talked, the more feverish I felt. I swear my brow was starting to sweat.

He kept making these odd little gestures…excuses to brush his fingers over my neck or arm…it gave me goosebumps, which still shame me mercilessly. I tried telling myself over and over that he was a pretentious Slytherin for chrissakes…it didn't work.

At least he wasn't looking at my chest…that's a plus, right? Right? Oh damn. What am I to do? Right, so there I was, talking to Zabini (mmmm….Blaise…no, bad Ginny…), trying to stop myself from touching him back…I swear, my hand was inches from his chest, when Ron hurtles into the room.

Decided my brother has the worst timing imaginable and hastily stopped trying to grope Zabini…which I decidedly _was not_ doing. There was a…doxy…egg…yolk…thing…on his shirt…and I was just trying to wipe it off…

With my tongue…

NO! Bad, bad, bad, bad, _bad_ Ginny. So right, Ron only stares at me and (a smirking, I know it) Zabini for a few moments, trying to convey something to me with his eyes (great, he's progressed to Idiot Sign-Language) before babbling on about Snape and Remus and a fight or something.

Two skilled Order members with passionate hatred spawning from childhood days…fighting. This was something we definitely had to see. I distinctly remember Hermione saying something to Harry (as we pushed and shoved our way up the stairs) something about getting this on tape and making millions. I was too busy trampling Neville to think about it...


	13. Remus: Round Two and Snape: Round 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Okay, so here's the next chapter. And that's all I'm going to say. For now. Oh and sorry for the crappy chapter titles...I'm in no mood to waste creativity on them...plus I'm a lazy-arsed buggershite. So sue me. No, wait...

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**witty6of7: **no, nothing of that sort going on...though I wish I'd thought of something that creative...no, this is just general weirdness.

**redenvy: **you really must stop reading my mind :)

**Blood Everlasting:** nah-unh. No such real-life experiences...trust me, if you met me, you'd know why. Can you say 'anti-social'? This is why romance is so hard for me to write...absolutely no real-life experiences to base it on...so forgive me if I have absolutely no idea of how things go...thanks for your reviews...they make me laugh.

**Nic6590:** yeah, I was considering having a girl have a go at Ginny...but Hermione's married to Ron...that would just be weird...and wrong...and a really bad way to get back at Ron...but good call on that...I had thought of it. :)

**IssaLee:** I know, I'm annoying. You get used to it. (evil, maniacal grin). Or not. Good ideas...in fact, I don't think I'm going to tell you anything because you have better ideas than I do. (grumbles and sulks off into a corner). Feeling self-depricating now...gr. :)

**The Lady Luthien: **I know what you mean...and aside from nearly telling me I resemble Hitler, I appreciate it. :) Your review made me laugh so hard...I suppose great, twisted minds do think alike. I mean, Hitler _was_ a mass-murdering fuckhead, but he was a _genius_ mass-murdering fuckhead.Which totally doesn't alleviate him of his spot in hell. On the other hand, if it did, I'd have a spot open...hmm...dilemmas...mmmm...extreme sauna...

**GlassBroomstick: **I can't remember how many chapters there are...but I think there'll be around twenty or so, as a rough number, because of how short the chapters are. (shrugs) I dunno. Cheers!

**Allychik6:** Oh yes...Ginny is Chaos's little bitch, isn't she? Poor dear, it can't be easy...Chaos and Fate must have a ball deciding how to make her life a living hell. And I have absolutely no clue where that came from...I'm going to go take my temperature now...thanks for the reviews.

**swimchik1614:** hmm...I hadn't even thought about Seamus...rotten little Irish prick. I probably shouldn't have said that...I have a lot of Irish friends...great, now they're all going to sic their leprechauns on me. Thanks a lot. :)

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 13: Remus, Round 2 and Snape, Round 3

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**

Have made slight discovery upon looking down as falling snowflake hit my chest. Peeking out through my heavy jacket, I noticed for the first time, the shirt I had pulled on when Harry Apparated into my room.

It's tiny…and low-cut…and practically see-through. No wonder the girls have been getting so much attention…what with being all wet and then being paraded around in a sports bra and then shoved into this itty bitty thing I'm sure belongs to Hermione and is something she was planning on wearing in her and Ron's 'intimate hours'.

Now that's one mystery cleared…damn hormonal bastards.

Anyway, we all followed Ron (who looked quite excited) upstairs (I gave Mrs. Black's portrait a swift jab in the eye with my wand on the way past) to Sirius' old study, where Remus must have gone after he left me to Malfoy…who I (at the time) assumed was still writhing on the kitchen floor.

Inside, Remus and Snape were having this flaming row, wands out, and eyes bulging as they screamed at the top of their lungs. I committed their scream-fest to memory…it wasn't hard…it was just one of those memorable things…

Remus was looking all hot and bothered and his greying hair was mussed…quite the mad scantilist look…or so I heard Hermione say to Harry, who nodded eagerly. Muggle thing. Snape was glowering in his 'I am the Potions Master' fashion. Buckbeak had discontinued chomping on cute, fluffy rodents in favour of watching those two battle it out.

Remus was in the middle of saying something which I didn't catch. Snape looking livid. Said something like 'Don't try to deny it, Draco told me the whole thing'. This caught my attention, which was then focused on the blonde figure I'd missed coming in, which was hovering in the background.

Remus turned and glared at Draco, and I was astonished at the acerbity in his gaze. Even Malfoy looked a little paler than usual. Then Remus turned back to Snape and his glare intensified. It was his turn to rant. 'So what if it's true…she's of age…got all the right to decide for herself. Doesn't need you coming in and interfering just because you want her for your little blonde monkey in grease.' He gestured to Malfoy, who I am delighted to say, went very limp and sullen.

Something clicked in my head and I had the sudden, disturbing notion that they were talking about _me_. I'm sure it was just me getting the random, occasional flicker of narcissism and jumping to conclusions, but it did seem to fit.

And looking over at Snape, something happened. I saw him paling and suddenly his eyes flickered over to me- the first indication that either of them knew there was a crowd of people in the doorway and spilling out into the hall, watching them for entertainment.

Remus and I understood the look at the same time, though I stayed silent, too shocked to say anything even if I wanted to. Remus looked over at me once as well, eyes widening in comprehension. "No," he said slowly "it's not for Draco…it's for…_you_." He sounded amazed, just as I felt.

That was all I could take. Already in the back, I pushed over the person standing between me and the exit-Tonks…and escaped. Glancing hurriedly at the twins, Tonks followed me, seeming to think my idea was more intelligent than any of her other deflective tactics.

And thus we flung ourselves into the attic, content to just run away for the time being. Except now she's probably being torn in two by Fred and George and I'm out here on this park bench, freezing my arse off.

Oh good, here comes Kingsley…

…


	14. Kingsley and Harry: Round Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Right, here it is, Chapter 14. This one is rather long and I have a few thing to say:

1) Dear Harry-lovers...I am so sorry, but I make Harry a bit of a bastard in this chapter...so sorry. I mean, he's really not that bad...he's worried Ginny will get involved with Slytherin trash and she's seemingly going through all the men in the Order and Harry and Ron are a bit overprotective. Just think of it as Harry's feeling jealous and doesn't want Malfoy to have something he can't. (This doesn't mean this is a Ginny-Draco fic, I'm just explaining...) So, erm...sorry.

2) Uh...I was just wondering if J. K. Rowling ever said what house Kingsley was in...if she didn't, then I guess it's perfectly possible that Kingsley could have been a Slytherin...if she did specify, we're just going to pretend Ginny never heard. Because you know what? None of that matters or has anything to do with the plot.

3) Erm...hi.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 14: Kingsley and Harry, Round 2

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**

Right, so…even with the addition of several more years of intelligence and experience, Kingsley is about as arrogant as Malfoy and Zabini. I wonder if Kingsley was in Slytherin…would cohere…would also add up to my not liking him…I don't like the other Slytherins…not that I'm being prejudiced or anything…to hell with that, of course I'm being prejudiced…Slytherins eat dung…nasty snarky little bastards the lot of them…

Right, so Kingsley…why he of all people had to decide inside was too hazardous for his health (I suspect the twins had something to do with that) and come tromping out into my personal space, I have not the slightest idea…but he did.

Shoving you repeatedly under my arse (which, I must admit, is considerable) will do nothing good for you. But as Kingsley approached in his swaggering, slow gait, I had no other choice. Knowing Kingsley he would have been all in my business and stolen it somehow…sometimes I think living with a bunch of people who specialize in espionage and stealth has its inconveniences…

He came up and shoved my bloody feet off the bench so he could sit down! No, he couldn't have sat on one of the other million and thirty benches in the square…he had to sit on the one I was comfortably occupying.

Well, I certainly wasn't going to just sit there and take it lying down…

So I kicked him off. I really don't think he fully appreciated the hilarity of the situation…him sprawled out in the snow…the wet, mushy snow…I found it more than just a little funny.

Until he reached up and pulled me onto the snow…am glad you were left on the bench, or you'd be soaked now. Well, I wasn't going to let him get away with such a slight on me, so…

To put it shortly, a gigantic snowball fight ensued, one which compromised the health of anyone stupid enough to come into the vicinity, which included, to my immense delight, Ron, who received a snowball to the ear, which I had absolutely _no idea_ contained a little rock in it…poor dear was out cold for five minutes before Hermione came looking for him…

It seemed we had come to a stalemate…so Kingsley decided it would just be a blast to come hurtling at me and knock me off my feet. Having a tall, rather muscular man fall on you with the force of a tackle is not something I'd like to experience again…and I'm only too thankful for the soft snow under me.

It was awkward…we both stopped laughing at the same time as he looked down and noticed the rather noticeable fact that I was inches away. It probably wasn't helping that I kept looking at his lips…

He stared down at me with this strange expression…almost confused, but somehow…uncertain. I'm sure I was looking somewhat similarly befuddled…we both seemed to be waiting for…something to happen…I don't know exactly what, nor does it seem I ever will, because Harry came strolling out of the house at that moment.

Slow, deliberate Kingsley…I don't think I've ever seen him move as fast as he did leaping off me. I'm surprised he didn't do me any damage. Harry came storming up to me and Kingsley, who was now looking acutely uncomfortable.

I've never seen Harry acting so bastard-like and rude unless it's when dealing with a Slytherin…which brings up the point of Kingsley most likely being Slytherin…

Harry was in full bad-arse Boy-Who-Lived superiority, take-that, I-Hate Slytherins mode. Needless to say, Kingsley was soon stowed away in the house and Harry was glaring at me. Being so feeling and sensitive as I am, I'm sure Harry wasn't expecting me to glare right back and tell him to eff off. He didn't take it too well.

Came up and grabbed me by the shoulders. I swore he was going to either rattle my brains around a bit or hit me…he looked more than just a tad infuriated. He didn't. Just carried on about me being determined to have a go at every male Order member before the day was over. Accused me of playing with people's emotions…

I told him to go stuff a cow.

He glared at me, and for once, I wish he would hit me. He wanted to. Just his damnable well-mannered self wouldn't allow him to. Stupid git. He said something about that kind of language not being fit for a lady. I told him he was more of a lady than I was and that I would talk however I damn well please and that just because he was a mild-mannered jack-off who had to resort to wanking because he couldn't handle real women doesn't mean there weren't real women out there. He looked confused until I stood tall and told him I was a real woman and he was only an imitation one.

That penetrated his thick skull.

He asked if I was insinuating something. I rolled my eyes, grabbed you and stormed off, giving him some sarcastic reply that involved monkey's brains and a comparison to him…I think the words 'effing moron' might have entered in there somewhere as well.

…


	15. Malfoy: Round 3?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So, here it is...the second to last chapter. Ahhh...I'm afraid none of you (or very few...not you, GlassBroomstick) are going to like the ending...but don't worry...I've got a plot twist to knock your socks off. :)

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 15: Malfoy, Round 3?

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**

It seems nowhere is sacred. I finally locked myself in this obscure room, telling everyone I'd gone home early with a headache. My hope is that no one will bother coming up here…fat chance.

So, determining that Harry was a great git, I decided to peruse the place in search of refuge from the overactive male hormones. I tried Sirius' old study, but Malfoy was there. He leered at me as I came in and I almost immediately turned around and left.

He followed.

My temper is a volatile thing, and at this point, almost completely out of control. When I say almost, I mean one more step away, and as Malfoy took that step, closing the distance between us, I snapped. I turned around so fast he ran into me.

I'm sure my exact words were 'bugger off'. He did that little Malfoy smirk thing…the one they pass down from father to son in that damning pure-blooded sodding-bastard bloodline. I remembered, quite randomly, what had turned off that rotten little smirk the last time.

It was a long-shot, hell…but I figured that since every single male not related to me had been interested in either me or the girls today, Malfoy would be no exception. So I tried a little experiment.

It worked.

I am now rejoicing my brilliance and the Slytherin Sex God's susceptibility to my non-existent charms…whatever this wide-spreading disease, I'm starting to like it. I have this power over people who have never show weakness before…like Malfoy.

I remember in my years at Hogwarts, many of the girls from all the houses fancied Malfoy, but he was…well, the Slytherin Sex God. Him and Zabini, both of whom I absolutely detest, dead sexy or no…but they _were_, granted, legends…in their own kind. They were mysterious and sexy and unattainable. Pug Parkinson tried like hell to get into their pants and beds…she never made it.

So I must concede I felt some joy with the control I exerted over Malfoy with a simple lip pout and shoulder shake. Now I know something's cock-eyed…I've _never_ had feminine skills or charms…and to make someone like Malfoy nearly wet themselves…there's some severe mind-boggling going on.

But indeed, that smug-arse, superior smirk slipped right off, and I swear I saw his mouth go dry. I felt the tremendous urge to do a victory dance or something…wait, you know what…

Alright, victory dance over. Memory still fresh in mind…was so triumphant. So right, I slunk up to Malfoy and did my best to imitate Hermione and Luna and how they acted around their men. I think it worked. And guess what? I can purr! I tried this weird, sexy voice, and everything was all silky-smooth and rumbly…it was awesome. Then I ran a finger from his ear to his chest, kind of like Remus did to me in the kitchen. Poor Malfoy nearly shat himself…almost makes me feel sorry for him.

Almost.


	16. Zabini: The End

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Right...so here's the end. Or is it? _**MAKE SURE YOU READ THE SECOND AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BOTTOM!**_ Okay, so without further ado...I give you...Chapter 16.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 16: Zabini, The End

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**

So after giving Malfoy what I imagine to be a rather uncomfortable stiffy, I ran off, trying desperately not to laugh at the look on his face. I failed quite significantly. I think it was my echoing laughter bouncing off the stone walls that drew Zabini from his room.

He wasn't wearing anything.

Scratch that, he was wearing nothing but a towel. And my gods, what a body. Not that I'm perverted or anything, but a girl just has to appreciate a body like that. Damn. It didn't help that I immediately went all hot the second he stepped into the hallway. Bloody hormones…

Zabini gave me this funny look. He said I was blushing. No shit! I knew perfectly well that I was blushing and the fact that he went and told me only made me go redder. Damn Weasley traits.

He grinned at me…not smirked, but grinned. It made me flush (if possible) yet harder. He gave this little laugh that sent tingles down my spine. Why does he have to be so bloody handsome?

So he said I was looking a little harassed (ya think) and asked if I wanted to come inside. And for once, I just thought what the hell… I went in and sat down unasked on his bed. Hell, I was feeling a little reckless…

Zabini looked ready to have a heart attack as he sat down, apparently forgetting he was n just a plain white towel. Can you say awkward silence? We couldn't. I swear, I tried desperately to think of something to say, but everything came out all muddled in my head, so I didn't even dare try saying anything. With my rotten luck and tied tongue, I would have screwed everything over. Not that saying nothing and looking around pointlessly did much to help, though.

I think we were on our fifth consecutive minute of silently avoiding each other's gaze when Zabini just said 'fuck it all' and within seconds (really, men move fast when they're kissing…) he was on the bed next to me.

And for the record, his tongue is nothing like a warm, slimy, wriggling fish. The boy may have an ego the size of France, but with skills like that, I suppose he's allowed to. So anyway, what do you think happens when a twenty-three year old single woman is tackled into soft, silky sheets by a practically naked, devilishly handsome twenty-four year old man?

Certainly not small talk.

Oh gods…if the twins (or Merlin forbid…_Ron_) ever found out I'd shagged a Slytherin…they'd kill me. No, first they'd spread the word all over the wizarding world in the most offensive manner possible…(knowing them, perhaps with illustrations or theatrical performances), torture me with the humility of the ages, _then_ (and only then) kill me. As a favour, for being part of the family.

I must say, it was…incredible. I mean, I'm no daddy's angel virgin, but I have to say, Zabini has graced top ten in the shagging department. Like Colin Creevey…he's sweet and all, but not much to speak of in bed. Zabini on the other hand…I think we lasted a good couple of hours…I dunno, time kind of spiralled out of control…

I really, really enjoyed that…more than anything I've done in such a long time…

Well, I should probably go now. Zabini said he'd sneak away from everyone for another go. Honestly, the man's insatiable…I'm surprised he doesn't have any protestations about bedding a Weasley…but hell…what a couple of hours it was…I really don't give a flying fuck if he was in Slytherin…that was one hell of a shag…

Or five…

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... 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Okay, so I realize it's not technically an ending...but it's implied, ok? Take it however you like it. However...

...if you did not like the ending...or if you didn't like the pairing...or if you just want to keep reading...there's another few chapters ahead...WARNING: don't read the following chapters if you're content with this chapter as the ending.

I know. I'm totally brilliant. Well, you probably don't think so. But that's because you're being stupid and reading the author's note while there's more stuff up. :)


	17. The End Begins

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: IMPORTANT TO READ**

Okay, so that wasn't the end for those of you who have decided to go on. So, here's my plot twist: I couldn't decide on one of the guys for Ginny to end up with. And...well...you'll see. And guess what? If you don't like this chapter...well, read the Second Author's Note...

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 17: The End Begins

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**

I feel so sick.

I thought that was it…that was supposed to be the end…the end of this horrible, unexpected, crazy day. I've been writing in this stupid, flashy book all day, for what I thought was the climax…it was supposed to all end. It was supposed to be easy and simply after that.

Not a chance, right?

I got tired of waiting for Zabini…I was restless and happy and for once, enjoying the spontaneity of my choices. I've never been the one-night-stand, on-the-go, fucking strangers type. But this time I thought 'what the hell'.

Idiot.

I stopped by Zabini's room on my search for him. I was about to knock when I heard voices. I'm not really the eavesdropping type…fuck that…I am the most curious and sneaky person you'll meet next to Fred and George, which is probably where I got it from.

So, I was shamelessly eavesdropping, and it was Zabini and Malfoy. Zabini was laughing and saying something. Next thing I heard Malfoy saying something about another notch on the bedpost. And I got it. I knew. I _understood_. I was just the next conquest.

I mean, really, what a _challenge_…you know? Sweet, innocent, hard-to-get Ginevra Weasley…family enemies…high-standards…everything well planned, nothing spontaneous…until this…I was the enemy, I _hated_ him. The perfect target.

Gods above, I feel so incredibly stupid.

I thought maybe this was it; someone steady and constant. Fuck, he was willing to overlook the poor, Gryffindor, Weasley thing, right? Only so he could get into my knickers. I can't believe I was that…naïve. That…_stupid_.

Gods alive, I'm an idiot…

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...

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **If you don't like this chapter as the ending, read on... in fact...never assume I'm done with a story unless I directly say so or write 'The End' at the bottom. Which is so cliche, and I probably will never put 'The End' at the bottom...forgive my babbling.


	18. The End: Part Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Okay, so here's another ending...are you seeing where I'm going with this? I simply couldn't just pick one pairing because there are so many. And because there are so many, there are so many different outcomes people are rooting for. I'm afraid to say that many of you will be disappointed as many of these endings are implied rather than direct. Sorry. But you see what this gives you? You can choose your own ending...within reason. Have fun and do enjoy...I hope. I dunno, it seems rather stupid, but I thought I'd give this a try...

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 18: The End, Part 2

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**

This day cannot get any more bizarre.

I admit, I may have been up here sulking. Maybe. Point is, I came back up to my secluded room…only to find it wasn't so secluded anymore. Moody was leaning against one wall, whittling away at a little wooden flute.

I really didn't feel like going and finding a more isolated spot and I honestly didn't want to be alone…

Moody was watching me with his magical eye as I sunk down into an armchair, staring balefully down at the floor. I recall wishing it would just open up and swallow me whole. We stood there in silence for a long time. Finally, Moody broke it in that raspy, hoarse voice of his, startling me from my reverie in which his knife came flying from his hand and embedded itself in my eye for a painful final repose.

'D'you want to talk about it?' that was exactly what he said. I swore, my heart jumped out of my throat, did a couple of astounding acrobatic feats, and then jumped back down to settle uneasily in my stomach. He couldn't possibly know…and yet, my mind once more asked the question of the magical eye…just what could he see?

I looked up at him and I remember…he was giving me this look…it was so completely understanding…like his magical eye saw right through me into something not even I could see…and I knew then, that he knew…everything. And to be honest, it was rather nice to have someone to talk to…

I told him everything, which greatly surprises me. It wasn't awkward, as I might have imagined it (that's a situation I honestly have to say I've never contemplated before) because I didn't have to explain everything. We talked in half sentences with open ends…we could have been talking about Sirius' great-aunt's sponge cake for all anyone else might know.

It was relieving. Moody knew what I wanted to talk about and what I didn't. he even let me cry into his shoulder, though it was weird (_that_ was awkward) and I had the feeling he'd never comforted anyone before. Not surprising…he certainly wouldn't be top on my list to go to if I needed someone to talk to. Lecture yes, heart-felt talk no.

Moody said Zabini was a great git (like I needed to be told) and that I was a brilliant girl. I scoffed and told him brilliance wasn't something men were looking for in a girl. He shocked me by saying I also had a first-rate pair of tits. Now that was a stunner. I looked up at him strangely, and I swore he nearly blushed.

Said he was just stating the facts and that any man would be 'insane not to fall for' me. I may be overestimating the level of his words, but the way he said it made me wonder if he was 'insane' or not. The look he was giving me…it was a little disconcerting, but still…it's so wonderful to have someone strong to lean on…I think I'm going to like that…


	19. The End: Part Three

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So, you didn't like Moody as an end pairing? Nah, didn't think so. But I had to give it a go anyways. We';; just assume now that Moody cares for Ginny, but could you imagine the two of them together as a couple or even (shudder) getting married? Probably not. That was most likely the least likely situation. That was a weird statement and I don't have the time to see if it makes sense or not. Bye-bye. Have to get going on Chapter 20! Yes, there is a Chapter 20, but only if oyu don't like this chapter. Have fun.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 19: The End, Part 3

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**

Moody and I went out separate ways after a few minutes. We had this silent connection…an unspoken agreement not to talk about this…not with each other or with anyone else…he let me know…without saying a thing…that he was there for me…and that was more than I could ask for.

In times like this, I wonder if I need a 'companion' at all. Just someone to talk to would be nice…

Anyway, I decided (with help from Moody) that hiding wasn't going to do me any good, it would only make Zabini feel like he'd won something, or that he affected me. I wasn't going to let that happen, and on Moody's advice (really, just a little gesture with his magical eye) went up to my room to change into something else.

I had just pulled on a worn, thin, Weird Sisters tee-shirt that Tonks had given me when someone coughed rather blatantly from the corner. After all that had happened today, I was too weary and too used to shock to be frightened.

I turned around slowly. Neville was standing in the corner, looking very numb and shocked. He had a muggle camera that looked like the one Colin Creevey used to carry in his hands and as I stood there, nonplussed in my little tee and my knickers, he lifted it and took a picture.

Now that was a surprise. At least, I really wasn't expecting it. After the day's events, I would have expected him to jump me, but not start up a photography…pornography…Playwizard-type thing. To be honest, I didn't think of him like that.

Neville let out this huge breath, as though he'd been holding it the entire day. It was strangely odd; the look he gave me was a mixture of relief, admiration, and apology. I was thoroughly mystified, just standing there in my knickers.

Neville let out another sigh as he took Hermione's owl Athena down. He took the picture the camera had spewed out and put it in an envelope, tying it to the great owl's leg. As the bird flew away, I gained my senses…a couple of them anyway.

I asked Neville (in appropriately raised tones) what the fuck he thought he was doing. He went pink and shuffled his feet (sweet Merlin, I didn't think anyone actually did that anymore). He said something about having a job as an assistant photographer to Colin Creevey, who I had at one point dated briefly…the whole bed thing didn't work for me.

Neville said he and Colin did life studies for this modern museum in Diagon Alley. Tasteful nudity or artistic minimal-ness was their speciality. They were doing it to raise money for Neville's parents and Colin's brother Dennis, both who suffered mental injuries in the wars. Well, what could I say to that?

Plus Neville flattered me by saying I was one of the most artistically pleasing women he'd ever seen and he just simply had to get a photo for the gallery of me and how completely sorry he was that he'd done it without my permission.

He lapsed into silence, as if waiting for me to curse him or hex him or something. I'm sure all those D.A. meetings came to mind and the Bat-Bogey hex I'd performed on Malfoy in my fourth year. Funny thing was…I wasn't angry.

Neville nearly broke down sagging in relief when I told him I wasn't going to feed him to Remus at the next full moon. We even made an arrangement…mostly because I care for him and Colin and want to help, but partially because I want to give mum a heart attack.

I wouldn't pose for any nude photos, but I told Neville that if he ever needed a model to help contribute, he could call on me. Poor dear looked positively ecstatic…rushed up and flung his arms around my neck. Said he'd never dreamed of being allowed to photograph someone so perfect (utter tripe, but it flattered me nonetheless) and that he and Colin would appreciate it more than words could say.

He straightened, and I saw tears in his eyes. A fleeting thought flashed through my mind, and I wondered why more men couldn't be like Neville…so sweet, so tender, so uncertain, yet so caring. He really is a terrific person. I don't say flippantly that I'll greatly enjoy spending more time with Neville in the future, whether working with him, or something else…


	20. The End: Part Four

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **What, you didn't like Ginny and Neville? Oh well. Here's the one I know many of you are waiting for and if that doesn't give it away, I don't know what will. You probably won't like the ending, but hey...guess what? There's a bajillion others to choose from. Hehe. Am a genius. Am an arrogant arse. (runs and hides in corner).

...yeah...just so you know...the 'something more' referred to at the end of the last chapter is now intended to mean that Colin and Neville are leasing Ginny a room at their flat in London as a part-time business partner for them...you'll figure it out in the second paragraph. Enjoy.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 20: The End, Part 4

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**

This is terrific! Neville Apparated over to Colin's to tell him the good news, I suppose. Next thing I know, Neville and Colin are Apparating into my room (am still in knickers), laughing and hugging. They soon included me in the celebration.

Colin told me (between endless appreciations and thanks) that they had the hardest time finding good-looking models who wouldn't mind posing for two gay wizards. I told them they were both dear to me and had been such great friends for so long that it didn't matter.

Besides, Colin's see me in less than my knickers. I hadn't realized he was gay, but this does explain a few things…like his lack of enthusiasm or expertise in bed. He confided that that was the best time he'd ever slept with a woman, but it simply wasn't for him. I pretended to be affronted. We laughed.

They look so cute together. Makes me wish I had someone to look cute with. What a stupid thought. I don't want someone to look cute with…I want…oh, what do I want? What do I want…

…

I left Neville and Colin to their merry-making when they started necking. I really hope they stay off my bed. I would hate to waste time with scouring charms all over my bed sheets. Ick…nasty thought…nasty thought…

So, I found my way back to the kitchens and who should be foraging the silverware drawer for something to eat pie with, but Malfoy.

At this point, I would have eaten cake with the Dark Lord. Today's just been, in Hermione's words, 'Twilight Zone-ish'. I should really figure out what that means…but back to my never-ending story…

I sat down at the table, still asking myself the same question that ended my last entry. What do I want? What do I want in life, really? Every time someone asks that question, I answer with a joke, or some smart comment. I've never _really_ considered it before…

Malfoy sat down at the table with a fork and started eating, for once holding his tongue. I was, needless to say, dumbstruck. It seems everyone had gone out to do different things because no one was in the kitchen, or surrounding rooms. No one but Malfoy. Mum had left some rhubarb pie in cooling, and I took a slice, sitting down across the table from Malfoy.

The silence was a little distressing. After a few moments, I broke out wildly with something like 'so, what did Zabini say about my performance?' I immediately wanted to go stick my head in the rest of the rhubarb pie…

Malfoy's head jerked up, and he regarded me with this gaping, uncomprehendingly blank stare. I swear I went redder than a rhubarb…I considered smearing pie filling over my face to make it seem paler. I didn't.

After a second, I broke the staring contest, blushing to my roots and staring down at my hands. I was surprised, to say the least, when Malfoy answered back, saying Zabini's praises were on such a level that he himself would make it his goal to give me a try.

After contemplating this for a second, I decided I wasn't insulted or affronted…coming from him it was a complement of the highest degree. I smirked up at him and said something about him being of too low standing. I think he nearly shat a kneazle.

I couldn't help but laugh.

I swear, he laughed too, until he realized he was laughing at himself. But he was still grinning. We sat on in silence for a few minutes…Malfoy was staring off into the distance, an odd frown on his face. It wasn't until I was finished eating and rose to clean my dishes that I realized Malfoy hadn't touched his pie since I had spoken.

'Lost yer appetite?' Malfoy didn't find my Moody-impersonation quite hilarious. I think he's still hung up on the Bouncing Ferret ordeal, despite his many assurances that he was not. He still screamed like a girl when Fred and George bewitched the mirrors into reflecting him as a giant ferret…

Malfoy seemed to have something on his mind and no matter how many times I said 'spit it out', he just kept staring confusedly at the wall. So I jumped him and tackled him from his seat. Luckily for me, I landed on something soft…him. I pulled my wand out, told him I had gotten an N.E.W.T. in Transfiguration and that unless he wanted to be a furry blonde rodent for the rest of his life, he had better cough up what was on his mind.

He spilled.

Said he was wondering how I knew Zabini had said something about me. I rolled my eyes and told him the walls around here weren't quite paper-thin, but they weren't sound-proof either. He looked a little guilty until I told him I was fine…upset, but fine.

He almost looked contrite when he asked me if he'd hurt me…saying what he said. I laughed and said of course not (I'm related to Fred and George…of course I'm a damn good liar), I was just a little depressed at having lost a terrific shag.

Malfoy smirked up at me, himself again, and said if I ever really wanted a terrific shag…I clocked him before he could finish that thought. Once he'd recovered from having the imprint of my fist in his face, he looked up at me, grinning (which I must imagine would have been rather painful, as I'd just banged up his jaw). I was slightly worried I might have done some serious damage.

He just sat there like an idiot, grinning at me. He said something about me not being a girl. I glared and stuck my chest out proudly, showing off what little I have. He swallowed, trying not to look, and said he hadn't meant it that way…he said he'd meant that I wasn't like other girls. He looked so damn admiring. I said I should hope not, especially if he was comparing me to Pansy Parkinson, the Pug.

He touched his jaw and said no other girl (besides Hermione) had ever dared to hit him. I said Hermione was a genius. He rolled his eyes and went back to his rhubarb pie, grinning ridiculously.

After a while, I got sick of Malfoy's weird grinning. I told him to get a life and gave him the address of my flat. He's not too bad for a rotten ferret…


	21. The End: Part Five

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I know, I know. By now there's probably no one reading. You all stopped with Draco. Damn you. This chapter is totally unexpected, and yet, not the last, as you may have guessed. This is the last chapter I'll update tonight because I want you guys to give me some feedback. I've uploaded like nine chapters tonight and it hasn't given me time to get any reviews on what you think. You're probably all wanting to kill me for fucking this story up. Oh well, I'm sorry.

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 21: The End, Part Five

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**

I left Malfoy to his rhubarb pie and his Cheshire-Cat grinning (something Hermione said once), and decided to drift about for a while.

Snape interrupted me.

He was sitting in an armchair, sunk down as far as his old spine would creakingly allow. I'm not too certain the empty bottle of Ogden's whiskey in his hand had begun that way, and my suspicions were ascertained as he leered at me.

Now, I'd had my fill of male hormones for the day, and was in no mood to get into a hormone battle with _Snape_ of all people. Even if I'd had the best day of my life today, I don't think I would want to get into a hormone battle with the somewhat greasy Potions master of Hogwarts.

I was trying to sneak away, hoping he might just think me a hallucination (Ogden's has been said to do strange things to people) and go back to glaring. He didn't. I swear he was trying to be an annoying git on purpose. He reached out (I think Fred and George have invented Extendable Arms and tested them on Snape) and grabbed my wrist. Being pulled down onto his lap wasn't quite pleasant.

I may have reacted a little more violently than was necessary for the situation, but honestly, what is the proper etiquette for a situation in which your slimy Potions Master tries to force you into a lap dance?

I thought I quite under-reacted…castration should have been in occurrence, at least. I'm afraid I might have slapped him…a few dozen times. The man is quite obstinate when he's set his mind to something.

After a while, I decided I wasn't getting anywhere (though I did manage to slap Snape enough times to get a little colour into his sallow cheeks) and stopped fighting him. Snape didn't appear to be too overly drunk…when I stopped kicking and clawing he didn't try to manhandle me.

He took my chin in his fingers.

I don't think I'll ever forget the words he said to me. Though he was drunk as hell, he said them with perfect clarity…

'You're so much more beautiful than they'll ever know.'

Sigh. So sentimentally sweet and endearing…what the fuck it means, I've not a feather, but…it was sentimentally sweet and endearing nonetheless. Who the bloody feck 'they' were, what on earth he was going on about calling me beautiful…not a bloody feather…

Not a ruddy clue in hell…

I was somewhat less than struck speechless. I'm sure I muttered what the fuck a few…dozen…times. And then it all happened so fast. Snape still had his fingers on my chin and he was pulling me closer…and closer…and closer…

It was one of the most tender and gentle kisses I've ever experienced. I pulled away after a moment, savouring in the chaste feel of his lips against mine. He stared at me for a moment, and I swear I saw the alcohol clear from his eyes.

He said he was going to die. I wasn't sure if I should say something to that, or even if I _was_ supposed to, what I would say…so I stayed quiet. He took another sip from his bottle and said the Order was sending him on a suicide mission. A last attempt to kill some of the more evasive Death Eaters out there.

I was shocked. Somehow, no matter how many horrible and gruesome deaths I'd wished on Snape back in my 'I'm-failing-Potions' days, to hear that he was actually going willingly into death made my chest ache.

He looked up at me then and said he had a secret to tell me. Well, I couldn't very well tell a man who'd just told me was going to die to 'hurry up and fucking say it, then' , so I just nodded encouragingly.

He said he loved me.

The breath left me all at once. Through all the strange things that have happened today, through all the lustful stares and heated moments, not one person has verbally said those words. It struck me down in a place I would never imagine love could hurt…my heart.

He gave me a weak smile and said he knew it was hard to imagine someone like him and someone like me, but he said I needed to know…even though the chance of him surviving the mission is so dreadfully low…he needed for me to know. He said he wouldn't ask how I felt, he was just content to let me know.

I kissed him back.

I don't hate him…I don't even dislike him. I didn't think I loved him, either, but when he said…just a week to live…a week and I might never see him again…I knew. Something I'd never asked myself…something I'd never before that moment even contemplated. I did love him. In a strange way that I could never have loved Harry or Zabini or Moody or Malfoy. It was different…so different I felt it shouldn't be called love, but something new and undiscovered.

He was smiling now, and I knew I saw a tear swimming at the very surface of his eyes. He said that was all he wanted…all the answer he could have ever hoped for. I thought he was talking about the kiss when I noticed teardrops on his shirtfront. I was crying too. He said, in addition to the secret and the burden he'd given me, that he had a favour to ask.

He asked if I would spend the night with him tonight.

This time I _was_ struck speechless. He said he had started having feelings for me. He was stupid enough not to say anything about them and now that he would be dying…in just a week…he just wanted to let me know and ask this one favour of me. I didn't know what to say.

So I said yes.


	22. Morning After

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Well...go reviewers. You guys rock. Yes, I know what many of you are thinking..."did I put the lid back on the pickle jar...?" Oh wait...no that was just me. Most of _you_ are thinking "Snape! Eeeeeewww." Yeah...me too. But I kind of like Snape a bit. And just assume he's not so greasy in this story. That helped me.

**The Lady Luthien: **dude, if you thought that was what Kingsley looked like, I don't knw how you read that chapter. Eew. But as J. K. put it, Kinsley's rather young...only slightly less so than Tonks. He's black, has a shaved head, and a gold hoop earring in one ear. Think of him as young, cool, and classy. And uptight. See what I mean? Total Slytherin material... Oh...and Luna? I'm not too sure who she's with. When I said Hermione and Luna and their men, I meant the total entourage of men through their lives...really any boyfriend to act sexy around. That's where Ginny picks up her 'moves' on Malfoy. Confusing, I know. And you had so better not take up my spot in hell...do you know how many souls I had to sell to even get a conference with Satan? I mean, talk about business woman...sheesh...:)

**Embellished:** fuck it all...I just couldn't come up with a plausible idea for why all this is happening...let's just say it is and get on with the fun. That was the whole point of this thing...no plot, just fun...damnit. It didn't work. :)

**Riality: **right in one. There's so many different types of love, I decided to take full advantage of it and do them all.

**Rancid Melody: **so not the end. :)

**Dracolover:** since I can't tell if you're being facetious or serious...hi. If you're not trying to be tongue-in-cheek sweet,...sorry. I love Draco too, ok? Cheers.

**IssaLee: **yeah, I don't even know why I do romance...I have nothing to base it on and I'm as pessimistic as hell. I'm not sure if boys do that bedpost notch thing...should look into. Oh, and dude? We really have to stop doing this. When I read your review I nearly snorted a strawberry (I actually like strawberry ice cream...weird). My nose still hurts, though, from the attempt. Oh, and Neville and Ginny? Not with my Ginnys. Ginny rocks. She kicks arse. Neville kisses it. So wouldn't work. But I gave it a shot. Hell, I don't even like half my pairings...but I do it to please everyone...which isn't working.

**blondie05:** Snape? No. Alan Rickman? Drool. So yes! So sexy...in a weird, cold, sarcastic, English way of course. Yeah...I really hate some of my own endings...but...give 'em all a try, yeah:) Thanks for the review.

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it is. If it is, it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling. Der.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 22: Morning After

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**

And that's how I ended up here…in Snape's bed. Which is quite honestly a place I'd never thought I'd be. Severus is still asleep…he earned it. Is it weird to make jokes about Professor Snape and I shagging and not be disgusted by it? Because to be honest, it really isn't…weird, I mean. It was actually quite…sweet.

I've been crying my eyes out for the past hour or so…I imagine it's night time now…I wouldn't know…Severus chose the only room without any windows for his personal area. After sharing the man's bed for…who knows how long we were at it…I can't seem to stop crying. He's leaving tonight…he said that what he had with me was perfect and that he wanted to cherish that as his last memory of me. I told him he was being a stupid git for going and started crying again.

It's brutally ironic, isn't it? That before I could never have imagined me with Severus and now that it's too late, I can't imagine me without him? It seems like this has just started and now he's going to cut it off…violently…sharply…ruthlessly. He can't die. He just can't die. But no matter how many times I tell myself that, the tears won't stop flowing…because I know…deep down…

He _can_ die.

And most likely will.


	23. The End: Part Six

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I'm baaaaaack. So, here's the next chapter. Unlike the previous few, this is not an ending. This is just a continual of the last chapter...Well...I lie. It's kind of an ending. One I'm sure you won't like. Oh well...off to go fuck with the majesty that is Harry Potter. Poor J. K.

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it is. If it is, it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 23: The End, Part 6

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**

The room seems so empty…I couldn't even sit on the bed it was so desolate and hollow without him, that I'm writing here, at the desk in the corner.

I saw him off just minutes ago. Remus, Dumbldore, Kingsley, Emmeline, and Moody saw him off as well. I offered to help him carry his bags out to the Knight Bus. On the other side, when we were alone, he leaned down and kissed me one last time.

I was crying again.

He caressed my cheek and told me not to cry. He said he was ready to go. I told him he was a great big sodding git to let go of life so easily, especially since I'd just found him…someone to love. He smiled affectionately…something I didn't expect him to do…

…and took ten points from Gryffindor…something I _really_ didn't expect him to do.

I laughed, still crying, mind you, and pulled him into a hug.

I watched the Knight Bus as it disappeared with a bang. My tears dried as it careened away, flattening a squirrel. I wouldn't cry for him…because he asked me not to. I ignored everyone's strange stares (except Dumbledore, who just smiled sadly…the observant little bugger…) at my dried tears and stony behaviour over Snape, and I too, disappeared.

I went up to his room, but I had to leave. Without him it was ugly and dark and dirty. I had to get away. I was just leaving when Remus came bounding up the steps. He looked frantic and horrified. He looked from me to the room I was leaving.

'Snape?' he bellowed, loud enough to wake the entire building. I glared at him and told him defiantly that yes, I was in Snape's room, yes I had slept with him, and yes, I was seemingly the only one who cared for him. Remus looked ready to keel over and snuff it. I told him to hasten on and do so.

He started in on how horrible Snape was and how old he was…I told him he and Snape were the same age and that he had tried to hit on me (unsuccessfully, I reminded him) as well. I also told him that he was no saint either.

That seemed to hit him hard.

For once, I felt guilty. Remus is an exceptionally kind person and one of the very few whose esteem I would like to keep high. It was unfair for me to take out my anger and pain on him. I apologized and told him I was tired.

He nodded and said he understood…I'm not sure if he actually did, but I was glad he was pretending to. As I turned to go, he asked if I hated him. It was so absurd I almost laughed. I turned and hugged him, despite how much I wanted to run up to my room and cry.

When he tried to kiss me, though…I had to pull on the brakes. I felt horrible at the thought that I might have been leading him on. I told him that I was sorry, but it was still too early to start something new, and that I really wasn't interested in him as anything other than a really dear friend.

Remus nodded and said he understood again. I don't think he did. He said something about being a little jealous of Severus…said I was an exceptional woman that he'd never really seen before. I smiled at him and told him I was still a rotten little kid that studded doxy eggs up Santa's nose. That got a laugh from him.

He still looked sad so I told him to cut the krupshit and tell me what was eating at him. He gave me this pathetic little look and said he felt very alone. Which was odd to me, because I was standing right there. He said he hadn't felt loved in years, not since Bellatrix Black, which was a shocker for me and a story I'm not too sure I want to know.

I hesitated…it was a secret I had promised never to let anyone (especially him) know…and she was one of my best friends…but I made a decision…she was bound to be getting tired of being torn in two and I'm sure Remus is more than a match for my brothers.

So I told him that Tonks had been in love with him for years.

He didn't believe me at first…Tonks has been more than careful to avoid the topic and him as well…but after a while I managed to convince him that I was serious and that he should go sweep fair maiden off her feet and carry her from the twin dragons, Gred and Forge.

He grinned and I haven't seen him or Tonks since.

And now I'm in my room, alone. That's how I want it right now. I guess I'm lucky Severus told me at the last minute…I don't think I'd be able to live if we'd developed something and then he went off to die. Right now it hurts enough knowing I could have loved him and could have had more time with him. But he was in his rights to do as he did and I'm only grateful that he did tell me…there's a part of me that he'll always occupy and though I know it's foolish, a tiny part of me still hopes for the bare chance that he could make it.

I resign myself from it, though. He didn't tell me this to make me hurt, he did it because it was something he wanted to share with me. I won't immerse myself in pain or sorrow. I will cry at his funeral and leave flowers on his grave, but I will not dwell on it. It is past, and I won't acidify his memory with cold, bitter thoughts. It is untouchable…pure.

No matter what…even when I move on in life and in love, he will always have some part of me…and I will never forget him.


	24. The End, The End: Part Seven

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Dun dun dun. WHAT? CAN THIS BE THE END? Yes. I'll probably add in another chapter, but this is it folks. I can't think of anything else. And now I have 145 pages of a new story. I don't think I'll upload any of those chapters until I've finished the story. Maybe. Read and enjoy. And if you don't, that's your fault.

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it is. If it is, it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 24: The End, The End: Part Seven

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**

I'm writing this from a train headed for Eastbourne. The past couple of days have been so incredibly hectic, I'm not really positive I even have time to be writing this. That day…Boxing day, last week…it was unexpected and so confusing, what with all the attentions I was receiving. After Remus left me to go find Tonks, I thought that was it…there were no more Order members to harangue and harass me.

Or so I thought.

It must have been…ooh, let's see…near on eleven, or half past. I think I was one of the only ones awake then…everyone else had been tired out already, even though they didn't have a horde of hormone-rampant men on their heels all day long. No, all they had to do was go about their little lives and petty chores and _they_ were tired. I scoff at the irony.

But, I managed to stop crying long enough to find my way downstairs and into the kitchen. Food! Food, food, food, food, food…lovely, yummy, scrumptious food! I love food. I miss food.

(I haven't eaten at all today, so if I bring up food a little too vehemently, you must understand why)

Late Boxing Day night I found my way to the kitchens…I remember I was craving some crème brullee really, really badly. I stumbled through the dark kitchen, not wanting to turn the lights on in case it woke someone on the first floor up. I rummaged around a bit and came up with the last slice of crème brullee. Ecstasy awaited.

I had a spot of trouble finding the table in the dark, and I distinctly recall slamming my shins into several somethings. Repeatedly. I think I was holding my ankle and cursing the table when a light flickered a foot away from me.

I still hold a grudge on Kingsley for sitting there the whole time, listening to me nearly kill myself…repeatedly…and not saying a word…and to top it, scaring the shite out of me like that. At the time I was livid. Well…perhaps livid isn't the most appropriately descriptive word…I did lose a perfectly good plate of crème brullee in the process of ranting at him.

I probably shouldn't have chucked it at him, though…it was the wrong thing to do…I mean, it was really good crème brullee, after all…but that's not the point…even though it was delicious crème brullee and oh so tasty and…I really need to get something to eat soon…

Right…so after I wasted my crème brullee on the little blighter, I sat down (somewhat childishly, as Kingsley reminds me) and glared at him for a while as he cleaned it up. I asked him what the fuck he was doing sitting in the dark.

He said he was waiting for me.

I asked him how on earth he knew I'd come down to the kitchen in the middle of the night. He pointed out that I was a Weasley. Well, I wanted to know exactly what he meant by that little statement…he wasn't going to insinuate things about Miss Ginevra Weasley.

But he just said I was a Weasley and therefore always hungry. I'm certain I would have cursed him if I hadn't been wary of waking anyone up. I told him to go away…not quite so politely, mind you…

He leaned forward in his chair…trying to imitate Dumbledore's wise 'I-know-all-and-everything-and-nothing' gaze…and asked me if I was alright. When I just continued to stare, he said he knew about me and Severus.

I was wondering how he knew (no chance in hell Severus would have told him…unless Kingsley really was in Slytherin…) when he repeated my earlier comment to Malfoy about the walls being neither paper-thin nor soundproof. He gave me this weird meaningful look and said he was in the room next to Severus'.

I swear I went ten shades of red. Kingsley laughed, and sat back in his chair, suddenly not so dominant-looking. He said he wouldn't say anything and that it was nice of me to do what I did. I asked him what exactly he thought I had done that was so nice. He looked at me, this strange expression of half-shock, half-hope, and said that he thought I had slept with Snape out pf pity.

I slapped him across his face.

Okay, so perhaps I was still a little tender about Severus then…but from where I was sitting, that was a slight on Severus and me. Kingsley rubbed his cheek and said 'apparently not'. Damn right, apparently not. As if either of us would stoop to something so low. I told him so. He said perhaps he'd misjudged me.

Awkward silence filled our ears for a while. I sat there, thinking and trying not to cry and Kingsley just sat there watching me expectantly. I felt horrible about slapping Kingsley. Sure, I'd slapped many, many more people for less substantial reasons and perhaps he did deserve it just a little…but I still felt rotten. I wasn't sure where I stood with Kingsley…we traded barbs, but not like how Zabini and Malfoy or even Snape used to do…we weren't technically friends, but I always felt easy around him. Not necessarily comfortable, but I felt at place. It felt right. Plus it was damn fun. Rotten sexy golden earring…stupid bloody captivating lips…buggering lean body…let's get off that track…

Finally he asked if I wanted to talk. I looked up. He was staring at me as he always did…but I caught something…something I recall with ease even now…a flash of something like uncertainty…I was smiling despite myself. I took his hand in mine. And said why not.


	25. There She Goes

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Okay, so I'm sitting in my room, waiting for my hair to finish setting (I DYED IT RED!), bored out of my skull, when I think to myself "hmm...I wonder if I've gotten any new reviews. So I trundle along, read my reviews, and BAM! Here I am stuck writing more. Not that I particularly mind...But I just felt the ending(s?) wasn't satisfactory enough. So, here's to it. Oh, and to those of you who think I'm stupid...you're right.

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**The Lady Luthien: **ah, one of my most faithful reviewers (dear gods, I sound a bit like Voldemort, don't I?). YOU ROTTEN LITTLE BUGGER! Okay, so maybe not so much this chapter, but Alternate Ending Two is especially for you because I couldn't let one of my most loyal critics end on a sour note (I'm so sorry you had to suffer through thinking Kingsley was old and bald...eew). You won't like Ending Number One, sorry. 

**amethyst-rose:** I know, I know. No one likes the Ginny-Kingsley pairing. But I had to give it a try...I think I may be the first to try that pairing...and most likely the last. You'll like either Alternate Ending One or Two, however...hopefully.

**Rancid Melody: **(sigh) not quite...:)

**GlassBroomsticks: **oooh! I forgot to tell you, I'm starting a new fic that's not (gasp) Draco-Ginny. Well it sort of is. It's Draco-Ginny-Blaise. Love triangles are so cliche, but I coulnd't help it. Haven't quite figured out plot line yet. But hopefully that will make up for smarmy-arsed Blaise in this story. Sorry, I know it sucks. I've royally fucked it over, excuse my language. I think from now on, I'll stick to one ending per story. That's challenging enough.

**blondie05**: yeah, I know...Snape...what're you going to do, right? So, you may not like Ending Number One, or Alternate Ending One, but definitely go for Alternate Ending Two! Trying to please everyone. Am failing astoundingly. :)

**IssaLee:** okay, you...scare me. Dunkin Donuts, the only things I get anymore are Chocolate Kreme, Boston Kreme, or vanilla bean coolatta. That's so frightening. Your reviews lighten up my day, especially when people are all 'eh, it was okay' and then you're all 'whoa, I rock my own socks!'. I hate you, you bloody funny person. I think you'll like the story I'm working on now. I've got so much written, I'm wondering if I should load the first chapter or two...I dunno. Thanks for all the reviews!

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**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it is, and you can tell the difference between genius work and my crap, can't you?

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 25: There She Goes

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**

So, here I am…on my way to Eastbourne with Kingsley, Tonks, Remus, and the Golden Trio. Kingsley's asleep in my lap and Tonks and Remus have been gone to the loo for a suspiciously long time…and I'm pretty sure there's only one bathroom in our car…

Ron and Hermione have been going at it in the compartment next to ours and I'm positive Harry's gone blind or insane by now. Dumbledore's sent us on this new mission…supposedly there's a cache of DeathEaters stored away in Eastbourne and we're on our way to go play the heroic good-guys. It should be fun.

It's no vacation in the south of France, but…

…that's what Kingsley's for.


	26. Ending Number One

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: SO IMPORTANT YOU WILL WITHER AND DIE IF YOU REFUSE TO READ:_**

Okay...so this is Ending Number One. Note: it features a Ginny-Kingsley pairing. If you like this pairing, read this chapter. If not, read Alternate Ending One or Alternate Ending Two. NOTE: DON'T READ ALL THREE. CHOOSE ONE. Don't go read this chapter and then go Kingsley-bash... (small voice)... I like Kingsley...he's cool. But he's not for everyone and I understand that. I'm doing Alternate Endings on those characters with the most responses...and Kingsley, because it's unexpected. For those of you who are crazy enough (myself included, people) to like Snape, read Alternate Ending One. For those many of you disappointed in lack of Draco-ness, yes, there is Alternate Ending Two. Have fun. **  
**

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**BooBooKittyFuxs:** Oh, no...Ginny wasn't going to sleep with Kingsley...at, least...I didn't intend her to...but who kows...she's a naughty little girl. She does seem like a bit of a whore, doesn't she? Hmm...chalk it up to sexual tension and enjoy. :) 

**SuckerForASweetTalker:** No, no, no, no. You're not being mean or being a bitch. You're entitled to your own opinion, and in this case, I agree with that opinion...it's quite astute and valid. I hadn't meant to make GInny such a spread-legged whore...I didn't even think of her as seeming so promiscuous until I got all these reviews saying so...and by then it was too late. Just assume that Ginny's been shagged twice before that day and that was 'letting her hair down'. I know, flimsy excuse, but I really just wrote this for relief from plot, so it doesn't really go anywhere. Sorry. About the Ginny-Draco thing, I specifically categorized it as just a Giny fic because I wasn't sure where it was going. However, it probably screwed it up, so I'm sorry and I hope you enjoy Alternate Ending Two. Thanks for the helpful review.

**To the anonymous hmmm...**: I'm sorry! I can't believe I made Ginny into such a whore. And this really wasn't supposed to be so long...it was supposed to be short, plotless and comic relief. It didn't turn out that way. I want to say to everyone that which I've said many times before: I'M A BLOODY MORON! And I take pride in it. I royally screwed this story up by trying to make an ending for everyone. Don't worry...my other stories are better. Check out my newest story if you want plot.

**Iviest: **Not a chance. This is something else I wanted to say...I've never been in a romantic relationship so I honestly don't know how they work. Hell, I don't know how emotions work. I honestly think that during the whole birth-of-being part I was cheesed off in the hormones department. Which makes this story such an irony in itself. A sad, pathetic irony, but an irony nonetheless.

**THANKS FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS, HELP, AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!**

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**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine unless it is, and if it is, it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling, now does it?

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 26: Ending Number One

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**

Right…so…I was just rummaging around in my things, looking for frog spawn (don't ask…ha, wait…you can't!) when what should I find but my long-lost diary!

Okay, so technically, I lost it for a month…but in Ginny-years that's like a lifetime. _So_ much has happened in the last month I really don't know where to begin. We're in Bath at the moment…we've sort of been city-hopping for the past four weeks. The Death Eaters we were supposed to be capturing and subduing got wind of us and fled. We've been chasing after their route endlessly and the track's starting to get cold. Kind of like my arse...it's bloody freezing out here.

It's been so quiet this past week though, it's almost deceptively so. I wonder...

I had news, two and a half weeks ago, from mum. Or rather Ron did and I snuck up behind him, conked him on the head with a frying pan (it might have slipped and hit his bollocks as well, I can't be sure…I was still mad at him for telling Kingsley off for snogging me) and stole the news to read for myself.

I'm not too certain Hermione was mad at me…apparently Ron had said something about her stomach looking a little rounded. Woman's Translation: _you look fat._ Practical Translation: male death-sentence. And a 'stay-out-of-my-bed-free' card. Whatever that means. Ron went eight different colors when Hermione said that. I know. I counted.

Mum sent the usual news…nothing much interesting unless you count the twins combusting their third pigeon of the week…or Remus and Tonks being caught shagging in the kitchen (I am never, ever, ever, ever, _ever_ eating anywhere within ten feet of that table ever again)…or Mrs. Black calling mum a fat-arsed whore.

Mrs. Black was given a new paint job.

And Dumledore had sent news that they would be holding a funeral ceremony for Severus next month. They couldn't find his body; the place was so ravaged with magic that even the walls crumbled to dust around investigators.

They're going to be spreading his ashes (how they can tell his ashes apart from the other twenty-eight stone of ash and dust and soot in the place, I'm not quite sure) over the Hogwarts grounds.

When I read that part, I ran out of the tent we'd pitched (managing a spectacular trample on Ron) and headed deep into the forest. Where no one would see me cry. No one but Kingsley. I swear, the man has a red-head-radar (I don't quite understand the logistics of such Muggle technology, but Hermione explained it as being sort of similar to a Locater Spell); he strode into the forest minutes after I did. Came and sat by me and held me and talked to me. I made me feel safe and content, though I think I cried the whole time.

Kingsley's been there for me this entire trip. Its like he knows when I need someone to talk to, or someone to listen, or someone to take my anger out on (he usually points me in Ron's direction in these times), or some space and time to myself.

Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without him.


	27. Alternate Ending One

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Okay, so here's Alternate Ending One: Snape-Ginny. If you don't like this pairing, don't read this ending. Read Alternate Ending Two. For those few of you who do like Snape-Ginny, enjoy.

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**BooBooKittyFuxs:** Oh, no...Ginny wasn't going to sleep with Kingsley...at, least...I didn't intend her to...but who kows...she's a naughty little girl. She does seem like a bit of a whore, doesn't she? Hmm...chalk it up to sexual tension and enjoy. :)

**SuckerForASweetTalker:** No, no, no, no. You're not being mean or being a bitch. You're entitled to your own opinion, and in this case, I agree with that opinion...it's quite astute and valid. I hadn't meant to make GInny such a spread-legged whore...I didn't even think of her as seeming so promiscuous until I got all these reviews saying so...and by then it was too late. Just assume that Ginny's been shagged twice before that day and that was 'letting her hair down'. I know, flimsy excuse, but I really just wrote this for relief from plot, so it doesn't really go anywhere. Sorry. About the Ginny-Draco thing, I specifically categorized it as just a Giny fic because I wasn't sure where it was going. However, it probably screwed it up, so I'm sorry and I hope you enjoy Alternate Ending Two. Thanks for the helpful review.

**To the anonymous hmmm...**: I'm sorry! I can't believe I made Ginny into such a whore. And this really wasn't supposed to be so long...it was supposed to be short, plotless and comic relief. It didn't turn out that way. I want to say to everyone that which I've said many times before: I'M A BLOODY MORON! And I take pride in it. I royally screwed this story up by trying to make an ending for everyone. Don't worry...my other stories are better. Check out my newest story if you want plot.

**Iviest: **Not a chance. This is something else I wanted to say...I've never been in a romantic relationship so I honestly don't know how they work. Hell, I don't know how emotions work. I honestly think that during the whole birth-of-being part I was cheesed off in the hormones department. Which makes this story such an irony in itself. A sad, pathetic irony, but an irony nonetheless.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it is, because then it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 27: Alternate Ending One

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**

Oh my gods. I cannot believe it. Today is the day. Who would have imagined…I would be getting married to a Slytherin. Bugger that Parkinson bint…she won't leave me alone. She's been fussing with my hair for hours and I've only just managed to get her to go away…I swear she was trying to cut it without my noticing it…

So, I was going through all my old things…you know, preparing for the move and everything…when I came across this old rug that tried to bite me…well, I 'accidentally' cursed it into swallowing its own tongue (should rugs have tongues?) and when it finally coughed it back up, this weird gold and scarlet thing fell out of it.

And it was then that I remembered that hectic Boxing Day eight years ago.

Can you talk about overactive hormones? Jesus Christ. I was reading it (I see I referred to you as 'you'…a direct personality…no wonder I was such an outcast…I talked to my diary…come to think of it, I still am…how are you?) over while Parkinson was attacking my hair, and I just can't figure out which is worse…the males' actions, or my reactions.

I sound like a right little leg-spreading whore, don't I? Damn…it all seemed so aboveboard and…well…just natural. I guess I was just as sexually repressed as everyone else in that house. Honestly…looking back on us, we were all just shuffling around meekly waiting to get laid.

I mean, I had only slept with two men by the time I was twenty-three. Colin and Seamus, which was just weird for me. And pathetic. I don't know what happened that day…everyone else was acting strange…perhaps I was as well. I mean, I had always been so careful with my emotions after the Harry ordeal.

Out of character, I slept with Zabini. It was just a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment thing when for once, I just decided I was old enough to deal with heartbreak. And maybe I knew all along it wouldn't work with Zabini…to be honest, I don't care and I don't regret it. It was a part of my life…and it's past me.

Snape, however…

Him I'm marrying in two hours.

After reading you (here we go again…), I figured I'd write a little something. My last entry as Ginevra Weasley. We caught up with those Death Eaters in Eastbourne eight years ago. We lost Kingsley and Luna in the crossfire and I've never stopped mourning either of two of my dearest friends.

But we found something there that eased my sorrow.

Severus. Just as we'd captured the last Death Eater, Hermione called us into this back room in the hideout. Tied to a chair and gagged, was Severus. My Severus. He's explained it all so many times, yet I still don't think even he knows entirely what happened.

It seems he went along on his suicide mission. Went to the Death Eater gathering. It came to the point where he would cast this spell that would wipe out everything within a mile, including him. He's told me over and over again that as he took his wand out, he was thinking how much he didn't want to die. How much he wanted to see me again.

And when he cast the spell, he closed his eyes. Thing was, he was able to open them again. It seems, from what Dumbledore and Severus have pieced together, that Snape was concentrating so much on me that he Apparated as he cast the spell, removing himself before the spell could take affect on him.

Of course, he was taken up by the Death Eaters who had seen the blast and had been in their hold for a good month or so when we found him. Seems they were trying to torture Order information out of him.

I was crying so hard when I saw him.

It was then that I realized how stupid I had been to let him leave. I latched onto him and told him he was never leaving me for as long as I lived. He laughed weakly and asked if that was a proposal. I told him to go shove it and I kissed him.

He proposed a month later.

And now here I am, still trying to ward Parkinson off. Why Severus chose her as his 'best man', I have not the slightest, but…to each his own. I chose Neville as my maid of honour, much to Severus's disgust. I told him I did it because Neville was sweet and my good friend.

Really, I just did it because I knew Severus would hate it. Gods, I love getting that man riled up. So, while Parkinson stabs me to death, I'm counting the minutes until I am no longer Ginevra Weasley…when I can finally call myself…

Mrs. Ginevra Snape.

I think Ron's going to kill himself.


	28. Alternate Ending Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I feel as relieved as Ginny is in this chapter. It's finally over! So, here's for all you pesky Draco-Ginny shippers out there. I love you, now leave me alone. I still have a one-shot and an story to finish writing. THIS IS THE END!

**BooBooKittyFuxs:** Oh, no...Ginny wasn't going to sleep with Kingsley...at, least...I didn't intend her to...but who kows...she's a naughty little girl. She does seem like a bit of a whore, doesn't she? Hmm...chalk it up to sexual tension and enjoy. :)

**SuckerForASweetTalker:** No, no, no, no. You're not being mean or being a bitch. You're entitled to your own opinion, and in this case, I agree with that opinion...it's quite astute and valid. I hadn't meant to make GInny such a spread-legged whore...I didn't even think of her as seeming so promiscuous until I got all these reviews saying so...and by then it was too late. Just assume that Ginny's been shagged twice before that day and that was 'letting her hair down'. I know, flimsy excuse, but I really just wrote this for relief from plot, so it doesn't really go anywhere. Sorry. About the Ginny-Draco thing, I specifically categorized it as just a Giny fic because I wasn't sure where it was going. However, it probably screwed it up, so I'm sorry and I hope you enjoy Alternate Ending Two. Thanks for the helpful review.

**To the anonymous hmmm...**: I'm sorry! I can't believe I made Ginny into such a whore. And this really wasn't supposed to be so long...it was supposed to be short, plotless and comic relief. It didn't turn out that way. I want to say to everyone that which I've said many times before: I'M A BLOODY MORON! And I take pride in it. I royally screwed this story up by trying to make an ending for everyone. Don't worry...my other stories are better. Check out my newest story if you want plot.

**Iviest: **Not a chance. This is something else I wanted to say...I've never been in a romantic relationship so I honestly don't know how they work. Hell, I don't know how emotions work. I honestly think that during the whole birth-of-being part I was cheesed off in the hormones department. Which makes this story such an irony in itself. A sad, pathetic irony, but an irony nonetheless.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Hormonal Half-Wits**

**Chapter 28: Alternate Ending Two

* * *

**

Whew…the last box.

I have just spent the past few hours unloading what seems like a Cornucopia of the most useless junk in the entire world. I guess you never really notice that you really don't need that stuffed life-size walrus until you've spent twenty sweaty minutes trying to coax it out of its box.

Ah, yes…unpacking would have been so much easier had Fred and George not bewitched all my things into animation as a twisted farewell present. Not to worry…I gave them each a box of 'homemade toffee'.

They should never leave their recipe for Male-Stimulant and Enhanced Performance creams lying about…

After eating a couple of those, they'll be running for their covers. Hehe. I am so evil. I hope Ron gets greedy and eats the whole tin. Bloody bastard tried to stop me from moving in with Draco. Just because he was Slytherin and wanted me to live with him without asking me to marry him. And Ron has absolutely no proof we shagged in the study…those could have been anyone's knickers…okay, so they were scarlet with gold trim and had a large gold 'G' on them…George might have a few things he's been hiding in the closet…

Marriage isn't Draco's thing. Actually…it's not mine either. I was reading you over again and I realized something…I was a rotten little slut when I was young (yes, I consider myself to have been a youngster eighteen months ago…). But can you blame me? I had the worst taste in men. Harry, who ignored me as anything but a sister…Dean, who liked me simply because I was one of the few girls his age he hadn't dated…Seamus, who was…well, Seamus…Colin, who turned out to be gay…

Zabini wasn't about him. Whether or not I realized it then, I do now. Zabini was about me. Finding out who I was. Sure, he used me…but on some level, I used him as well. We're actually decent friends now…he used to share Draco's flat, but now I've occupied that spot.

After that final blow to the Death Eater population in Eastbourne, I wandered out on my own for a bit. Kingsley and I parted ways after a while…we were good together, but it just wouldn't work. He's living in Spain and writes me frequently. I lived in France for a few months…travelled to Germany, Hungary, Austria, Poland, visited Charlie in Romania…I came back for Remus and Tonk's wedding and who should I be sitting next to during the ceremony, but Draco? We were both on Remus's side, which, now that I think of it, is weird…he should have been on Tonks' side…

Well…I just asked him about it. He said he infiltrated Remus's lonely side when he saw me there…cheeky, sneaky little bugger…

Well, things developed from there…Draco took me out to dinner…took me to go see England play in the Quidditch World Cup (we barely lost to Brazil, but it's alright…I was with Draco)…and I began to stay the night more and more at his flat.

Well, Zabini finally got fed up with the noise we made 'after hours' and moved out last week. I've just finished moving in (with no help from Draco…he kept trying to lure me away from working to do more important things…like test out my new bed's stability…) and I can't help but think of this place as home.

It fits perfectly. And I know that Draco and I will fight and it will be absolutely horrid…but aside from that, he hasn't told me he loves me. And strange though it seems, that makes what we have more special. Draco has never once told me I'm beautiful. He's never told me he likes spending time with me. He's never said he loves me.

And it's alright…because he doesn't have to.

I know he does. He knows I do. We get each other. And though we're nearly complete opposites, this is going to work if we stick with it. Because, verbalized or not, I do love him and he does love me. And I'm starting to think that this could be my home.

And somehow…I just know it is.


End file.
